Everything Will Be Okay
by kuisses
Summary: He remembered things when he held Kurt at night; their life together, all their happy memories.


**Warnings: **Character death.

* * *

><p>He started getting sick in the spring.<p>

At first, it was just a bit of weight loss, nothing too serious. But when Kurt had dropped ten pounds, having already been slender, Sam decided that it was finally time to see the doctor. He held Kurt's hand throughout the appointment, listening intently as the doctor devised a new diet plan for Kurt with hopes that the weight would come back on.

But it didn't. It only got worse, and after a while, the pain started to come. Kurt would spend hours and hours in bed, clutching his stomach as he sobbed, and Sam would wrap his arm around his shoulders and hold him close, wishing that he could take it all away.

Ultrasounds came next, and then the prognosis. _Cancer with less than a year to live_; Kurt didn't shed a tear throughout the appointment, but before they reached the car, he buckled over on the sidewalk and Sam rushed to his side.

"What about the children? What about _you_?" he cried out in a thick, shaky voice. His eyes were bloodshot as tears streamed down his cheeks, an endless river of pain and heartache as the sweet faces of their son and daughter popped into his mind. Cameron, their little boy with sandy hair and big blue eyes, and their girl Catherine Elizabeth, named after her grandmother whom she never met, a tiny two-year-old, and the absolute spitting image of Kurt.

Sam wanted so badly to tell him that the diagnosis was bullshit, or that God would give them a miracle. He knelt down and wrapped his arms around his husband, pressing only the gentlest of kisses to his face as he whispered, "We've got each other; everything will be okay."

That was really the only promise he could make.

He cupped the side of Kurt's face with a trembling hand as a lump formed in the back of his throat from the tears he was holding back. "I love you."

##

He made breakfast every morning.

Sometimes the kids snuggled with Kurt in his bed while he was busy cooking, while other days, like today, when Kurt wasn't feeling well enough, they joined Sam in the kitchen.

He buckled Catherine Elizabeth into her high-chair and lifted Cameron up so that he could sit on one of the island stools. "Keep both your hands on the counter," Sam reminded his son, bending down to plant a kiss on top of his head before he opened up the refrigerator.

Cameron fanned his hands out over the island, examining them with furrowed brows before he finally spoke, "Papa, is daddy getting better?"

Sam froze, his hand reaching for the carton of eggs. Catherine Elizabeth was still too young to understand Kurt's situation, but Cameron knew bits and pieces. Pulling out the eggs, Sam placed them on the counter before he turned to his son, a sad little smile etched across his aging face. "Daddy's still sick, Cam."

"I know that, Papa," Cameron said immediately, his voice high and his eyes wide. "Is Daddy getting better, though?"

Kurt wasn't getting any better, that was the awful thing about the cancer he had—people only find out they had it once it had already developed so much that it was damn near impossible to go into remission. They still tried, though, but Kurt's body kept rejecting the treatment and they were running out of options.

They were running out of time.

"I don't know," Sam finally managed in a soft, tired voice as he walked over to his son to ruffle up his hair a bit and tickle his sides. "Want to help Papa with breakfast?"

And that was all it took for Cameron to squeal with laughter and smile brightly; to forget the conversation they just had.

If only life was that simple for Sam.

##

He remembered things when he held Kurt at night; their life together, all their happy memories.

Sam's fingertips drifted over Kurt's bare shoulder as he remembered the first time they kissed and how perfect it was, right there in front of everyone in the hallways of McKinley, and he didn't care who saw, what they had to say or what they thought. Kurt's lips were so soft and tender, and he knew that Kurt loved him before he even spoke the words just from the way he kissed him.

His fingertips run down along Kurt's slender arm to his hand where a plain white gold band encircled his ring finger. Sam proposed to him in this very bed one morning all those years ago. He slipped the ring on while Kurt was still sleeping and kissed his hand, all the way up his arm and neck, along his jawline to his lips until Kurt woke up and Sam asked him to look down at his hand. Kurt's eyes had welled up with fresh tears as he repeated _yes _and _I love you_ over and over and over again.

Fresh tears burned the corners of his eyes as he brought his other hand up to rub his temples. He didn't know why life had to be so hard; he wished someone had told him so that maybe he could be prepared. Sam was used to rough patches—two people in love could be absolutely downright cruel to each other at times—but this?

How was he supposed to prepare for losing the love of his life when he always thought they'd grow old together?

How was he supposed to make it through the next couple of weeks they had, watching Kurt deteriorate and being completely powerless?

How was he supposed to say goodbye?

"You okay?" Kurt's asked when he felt a warm teardrop fall from Sam's cheek and land his own.

He sounded weak and in so much pain; it broke Sam's heart every time.

Sam reached up to wipe the tears from his eyes. "Yeah, just thinking about stuff," he sighed heavily. "I'm scared."

Kurt smiled up at him; just a soft, small smile and Sam fell in love all over again. "I know," he said as he draped his arm over Sam's chest. Kurt wasn't really scared anymore. Sure, he was at first, all those months ago when his doctor told him he was going to die in less than a year. But now he had no room for fear, and refused to live the last of his days afraid about if tomorrow was going to be it.

Sam wasn't there yet. Nowhere near there yet.

"All those months ago," Kurt started, leaning up to press a small kiss to the column of Sam's neck. "You told me that everything was going to be okay. You've been wonderful to me, more than I probably deserved, the perfect father to our children, and you've given me a life that's like a dream." His hand curled around Sam's neck, fingers lightly drifting over his hairline before he repeated, "Everything will be okay."

Sam bit down on the insides of his cheeks hard enough to draw blood, but even that couldn't hold back his tears. They flowed endlessly down his cheeks, his breath hitching as he choked out sobs. "Not without you," he managed, his voice thick and rough.

And Kurt was crying now, too, because the misery etched across Sam's face was the most painful thing he'd ever seen. "They have to be," he said, and his words almost came out like a beg. "They have to be, Sam."

He didn't know how they could be. He had no fucking idea.

"Don't cry, Sammy," Kurt told him softly, kissing him on the mouth as Sam's lips quivered. "I love you more than anything."

And somehow, those three words that still made him so happy could now make him so sad, because one day he knew he'd never hear it again except for in his memories.

"I love you, too."

##

He passed away in the middle of winter, a year ago to date.

It still hurt; to be without Kurt was to be chopped in half by a shaky-handed dilettante. Every now and then, after all this time, he would still wake up and roll over and toss his arm over where Kurt's body used to lay and he'd only be met with cold air. He was haunted by the taste of Kurt's kiss, the memory of his touch, the sound of his voice. Sam missed being filled with Kurt's scent; during the nights that were long and lonely, he'd open up Kurt's side of the closet and just smell his clothes for hours.

Kurt was laid to rest next to his mother, a location Sam knew well before Kurt had even died due to all the times Kurt took him there on Mother's Day and her birthday. As he pulled up to the spot, he hitched Caroline Elizabeth on his hip as Cameron teetered behind him with a bouquet of daisies to Kurt's grave.

He heard a little sniffle and turned around; Cameron, still holding the daisies tightly too his chest was crying softly, wiping his little tears away with the back of his hand before he mumbled, "I miss Daddy, Papa."

One thick tear rolled down Sam's cheek, and Caroline Elizabeth promptly reached up with her chubby little fist to brush it away. Sam smiled at her and nuzzled her cheek before he knelt down in front of Cameron and kissed his forehead. "I miss Daddy, too. But you know Daddy loves you, right? And that you'll see him again?"

Cameron gave him a small nod as more tears rolled down his rosy cheeks, and Sam held out his hand for Cameron to take as they made their way towards Kurt's grave.

Cameron passed the bouquet of daises to Caroline Elizabeth for her to put in the little vase as Cameron filled it up with water. Caroline Elizabeth was still too young to really know what death even meant and that her Daddy had died, but she placed her little hands on Kurt's tombstone before she blew it a kiss, saying, "I love you, Dada!"

Cameron was crying again, his face bright red and his eyes puffy as he placed a little envelope at Kurt's grave with a handwritten letter inside, the words _To Daddy_ scribbled on the front. Cameron didn't say anything, at least nothing out loud; he just stood there, looking at the words _Kurt Hummel-Evans _engraved into the stone the way he always did when they visited for just a moment before he took a step back.

"Take your sister and go say hi to grandma?" Sam asked Cameron, who took his sister's little hand and led her just a couple feet over, leaving Sam alone.

He waited until he could hear their soft voices before he knelt down in front of the grave, looking down at Kurt's name, his date of birth and death before he finally looked up at the sky, knowing that if Kurt was anywhere right now, it was in heaven.

Sam smiled softly, one tear rolling down his cheek before he began to speak, "There's not a minute that goes by that I don't miss you, Kurt, or a second that goes by that I don't love you. I know we felt like we were promised a lifetime of happiness, and I used to think that we were somehow cheated. But we weren't. No two people could have been happier than we were. I still feel you; I know you're there. I still see you every day our children smile, or hear you whenever they laugh. And it's during those times that everything starts to feel like it might actually be okay."

"I love you, Kurt," he said, his breath hitching a bit as he wiped away a few more tears that fell.

"I always will."


End file.
